


turn off the lights & turn off the shyness

by DressedUpLikeDreams



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:17:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3836785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DressedUpLikeDreams/pseuds/DressedUpLikeDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Red," Liz interrupts, "I am not going to ask what you're wearing at any point during this conversation, so you might as well just give up. There are hotlines for that kind of thing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	turn off the lights & turn off the shyness

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song 'of all the gin joints in all the world' by fall out boy

"I'm not going to have phone sex with you."

Red makes a frustrated sound, tinny and faraway. "But _why_ ," his voice comes out as a whine, not that he’ll ever admit it, “Honestly, Lizzie, it is completely okay, I don't get why it's such a big deal--"

"Red," Liz interrupts, "I am not going to ask what you're wearing at any point during this conversation, so you might as well just give up. There are hotlines for that kind of thing."

"You're a hot line," Red says, mildly petulant. 

"That doesn't even make _sense_ ," Liz sighs, with vague disgust. "I'm saying goodbye now. So goodbye." 

Red makes a protesting sort of grumble and Liz hangs up, stretching out in the too-large bed. The comforter is a cheap imitation satin, and everything is beige and this side of not-right. Liz really hates being on opposite sides of the country. She still keeps her lotion and toothbrush on her side of the sink, even when Red's not there. Which is sort of embarrassing.

Liz jolts at the sharp intrusive vibration of a text, her cell beeping loudly against the wood of the bedside table. The ID flashes **No.1 Asshole!** , because Liz didn't think to change it from when Ressler got all mad about Red about god knows what.

The text says: _J_ _ust so you know, I'm not wearing anything at all._

Liz snorts out a laugh and hits reply, says, _I don't care_ , although she does. _Not interested_ , although she is.

Red calls her back immediately (something about a separation complex), and barks out, "No but really, I am."

Liz grins and rolls her eyes all at once, balancing her cell between her ear and shoulder as she rearranges herself on the bed. "I thought I said that this wasn't going to happen."

"But I'm naked," Red says in a laugh-ridden whisper, and Liz's not so sure he's joking. "And I _miss_ you," Red adds, seriously, and Liz is certain.

"You know," Liz says, thoughtfully looking at the magnolia of the ceiling, "Phone sex is like, fifty percent masturbation, anyway."

"Yes, Lizzie, well done, you understand the blueprints," Red says, laughing. Then, voice lower, "Although I like where you're headed."

"Make that eighty." Liz unbuttons her pants.

Liz can hear Red's lips purse, pausing. "Tell me more about this masturbation fad," Red pushes, voice a little lower. He pauses again, "And, okay, so I'm not naked, but my pants are undone."

The imitation satin is also itchy on Liz's back, on her forearm where it scrunches. She imagines Red laid out, like this, in a mirror hotel a few hundred miles away. "It's all the rage," she says, conversationally, and waits until her hand is in before realizing that Red, Red bought her these underwear. "All the cool kids are doing it, and I--" Liz leaves it hanging.

"And you?" Red finishes, expectantly, and there is a strain in his breath.

Liz smirks. "…And I am not doing this with you, Red, so quit it, already." 

"Oh my god." Red exhales in a jumble. "Oh, Lizzie, the hate I have for you right now is unparalleled. I almost thought about getting turned on, there, for a second."

"Foolish," Liz says primly, and the picture, the mental image of Red, in her head, in his hotel bed with his pants pushed down, his hand deep in his boxers, eyes shut to the sound of Liz's voice -- It's exquisite. "The high hopes you have for this are just waiting to be shot down. Are you naked, yet?"

"No," Red says quickly. "But I could be."

Liz ignores this, sort of. "I think periods of, what do you call it, chastity, are good for couples," she continues, mildly. "I think this will make us stronger." She swirls her finger, and she is definitely wet now, swollen at the image, the thought of Red twisted in sheets, moaning, licking his palm and grunting at the first satisfying pull.

“That’s ridiculous, Lizzie,” Red says. "If you were here right now, I'd fuck you. You know that, right? On your hands and knees. This bed is too big for just me. We could spend a lot of time in here."

Liz bites her lips and says, "Yeah, I'd like that." She touches herself a little faster, just this side of too-rough. "Phone sex is still not happening, by the way."

Red's voice is heavier. "It is on my end."

"Not on mine," Liz counteracts, although it so, so is. Red's heated eyes, those little grunts he makes when Liz sucks him off, tight heat and pulls of her fist, slow, then fast, then off, then back down, hands on Red's hips to keep him down. She moans a little, and says, "I think we shouldn't have sex for a very long time. I think we should have a hands-off at all times policy."

"I think you should have my cock in your mouth right now," Red says, sudden and harsh, and his breathing is definitely getting ragged. "I love to watch you. Your lips."

"I hate it," Liz says quickly, although she doesn't, she loves it, loves the thickness and fullness and wetness of it, Red's fingers tight in her hair, the sharp jut of his hips against Liz's hands. "I prefer to take care of myself," and it's such a lie, Red laughs and moans at the same time, a strange high-pitched soft combination.

"I'd like to watch," he says, voice deep, and Liz would like that, too, gasps a little at the thought of it. "Mutual masturbation is a healthy part of any sexual relationship. Would you like to watch me get off, Lizzie?”

"I'd like to get you off," Liz says, light, on a soft desperate exhale. "Are you touching yourself?"

"No," Red growls, falsely, with a little moan. "Yes. I'm thinking about fucking you. You close your eyes, sometimes, and I just want to bite your neck when you make those noises, you know. And. And I, fuck, I really like to spread your thighs and eat you out while my fingers are inside you."

Liz feels maybe like she's caught on fire, like every place her skin is in contact with skin is scorching hot, burning. She murmurs, “Raymond,” and imagines it, remembers it. "Please," not sure why, just needs it, needs the contact, needs touch, needs Red.

"Would you like that?" Red is saying, his voice low, but the words quick, and his breathing is ragged. "And afterwards I'd fuck you, so hard you could feel it the next day, and I'd wake you up in the morning with my mouth on your cunt, all hot and wet, and-- Fuck, _Lizzie_.”

And Liz thinks _yes_ and _please_ , lets out a tight, "Red, fuck, _Red_ ," and her hand is so hot, all sweaty and slick, and she wants to feel Red come, yes, she does.

Red is saying, "I want to see you come, oh god, I just want to watch you come right now Lizzie, your face," and Red should do this for a fucking living, the low gravelly drawl of his voice, the way his breath goes up and down, hitched, obvious, and Liz says, "Yes, _yes_ ," and comes hot and hard onto her own fingers, her hips rising off the imitation satin, shuddering for a long, blissful moment.

“Fuck, you just came didn't you, god _Lizzie_ ,” Red is hissing, and he sounds delirious and also kind of hilarious, but Liz can barely breathe enough to laugh at him, just sighs into the phone. Red groans, "Fuck fuck, Lizzie, I'm," until there are far off strangled noises and groans and Red's breathing goes all to shit. Liz listens to him come.

"Well," Liz says into the silence that follows. "That was educational." Her hand is sticky with her own orgasm. She wipes it on the comforter with something that feels like victory.

"I want to see you," Red says, and he sounds quieter than before, calmer. "I can't wait 'til Tuesday, Lizzie. Elizabeth.”

"We are having a hands-off policy," Liz says, with a tease to her voice. "But until then-" She pauses, "know that I, I miss you, too." She is quiet, almost hesitant when she says it.

Red smiles, and it is loud and large and unavoidable even from hundreds of miles away. "Lizzie?” he asks, coyly. "Are you sure phone sex isn't allowed?"

Liz smirks and stretches out further, filling all the spaces where Red should be. "Completely and utterly banned, I'm afraid."

"Huh, okay. I'll go call that hotline now, then."

Liz laughs, "You're an ass."

Red laughs back, his voice low and throaty. "And you should think about changing careers, if you know what I mean."

Liz hangs up, and feels less alone for it.


End file.
